Page 121 of The Secrets We Built Together

"Amelia, no," Xander gently removed the flower from her grasp and replaced it with a teething ring from the diaper bag. "Flowers are for looking, not for eating."

She accepted the trade with minimal protest, gnawing happily on the rubber toy while continuing to explore the edges of the blanket.

"So," I said, watching them together. "Are you going to tell me why we're here?"

Xander kept one eye on Amelia as she ventured toward the corner of the blanket, reaching for the cooler when she needed redirection. "Do you know where we are right now?"

I looked around at the open field, the distant tree line, the rolling hills beyond. It was beautiful, but not particularly distinctive. "Somewhere on Booker's property?"

"Yes," Xander nodded, "but specifically, this is where I'm building the house."

My eyes widened as I took in the surroundings with new understanding.

He pulled the cap off the tube and slid out a roll of blueprints. "The contractor's starting next month."

He spread the plans out on the blanket, weighing down the corners with stones he'd collected from nearby. I leaned forward, studying the drawings with growing interest. This wasn't the small, practical house he'd first described to me all those months ago.

"This is... different from what you originally planned," I said, tracing a finger along one of the lines. The house was larger, more open. Generous windows looked out over the fields, and a wide porch wrapped around the entire structure.

"I realized Booker was right. He was far too proud of that when I told him, by the way," Xander admitted, his attention divided between the blueprints and Amelia, who had discovered she could pull herself up to sitting and was now clapping her hands in self-congratulation. "The old layout was for a life I never wanted. This is what I need, whatweneed. I want a home. Arealhome."

Something in his voice made me look up at him. His eyes were soft, vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. My heart thumped against my ribs as he continued.

"Here, look at this," he said, shifting slightly to point at a section of the blueprint. "This is the main living area. Open concept, so whoever's cooking can still be part of whatever's happening in the living room."

I nodded, drinking in the details.

"And here," he continued, his finger moving across the page, "this is the office. Plenty of natural light, but set back from the main living spaces so it's quiet enough to work."

"It's beautiful," I said, genuinely impressed. "You've really thought this through."

"I have," he agreed. Then, with a hint of nervousness in his voice: "And this... this is the studio."

My breath caught as I followed his finger to a large room on the ground floor. It had high ceilings, massive windows facing north for the best natural light, and built-in storage along one wall.

"The studio," I repeated, unable to form a more coherent response.

"For you," Xander clarified, as if I might have misunderstood. "I figured you'd need somewhere to work."

I stared at the blueprint, then at him, bewildered. We hadn’t talked about this. We hadn’t discussed the future past getting Amelia, and when that happened we’d fallen into a beautiful life that I had just assumed would continue. I’d always known he was building the house, but I guess I just hadn’t even joined up the dots.

"You made a space for me in your house."

"I made a space for you inourhouse." His voice was soft but steady.

The world seemed to slow down around me. "I always knew you were building it, but I guess I just never thought…"

Amelia chose that moment to flop onto her stomach, pushing up to her hands and knees again with renewed determination.She crawled toward the edge of the blanket, faster than before, making a beeline for a patch of clover.

Xander reached out and gently guided her back to the middle of the blanket, offering her a toy from the diaper bag. The colorful set of plastic keys instantly captured her attention. She sat back on her bottom, babbling happily as she examined her treasure.

He turned to face me fully, taking both my hands in his.

"Blake," he said, "We never really looked at the whole picture before. But the thing is, I can't imagine my life without you in it anymore. You and Amelia – you're everything to me."

My heart hammered in my chest as he continued, his thumbs rubbing small circles on the backs of my hands.

"Look at these plans," he said, gesturing to the blueprints. "Four bedrooms upstairs. One for us, one for Amelia, and some for whoever comes next."

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